Chapter 62

"Virtues of the Forsaken"

At a first glance the battleplate's war room was the epitome of order and discipline. It wasn't to last. Other than the petty staff left to maintain the equipment and transmit orders only seven Tai and a single Myod were present, loudly arguing amongst themselves - and all but one were holograms situated around the war table. A pair wore the recognizable armour of the Protectorate's Marooner fleets, but others sported less uniform garb. The single Tai physically present was an elegant thin-limbed bird with features not unlike an Earthen peafowl, though her coat was a sheer snow white. Her silver tail feathers were massive, curved upwards to display iridescent eyespots near their tips. The effect was a wide fan that framed her body when glimpsed from the front. She wore a black velvet tabard on which a golden dragon wrapped and wrapped and wrapped all around her torso.

"Admiral on deck!" a Tai soldier shouted.

The Tai commanders ceased talking and stood to attention, their gazes turning towards Oroses - and Hawkmoon herself.

"At ease," Oroses said, waving them down. "How do we fare?"

"Graveborn forces are pulling back," the peafowl said. Her voice was high, smooth, lyrical. Her dark eyes were trained on Hawkmoon. If there was intent there, Hawkmoon was blind to it. "They've cemented their position above the settled moon."

"The chatter's indecipherable, but we know they're digging into the local ships," another Tai said. They were a true raven unlike the rest, all black and equipped with a straight beak, but they were one of three Tai entirely lacking wings. Their robes were light, neither uniform nor luxurious, and seemed to have been thrown haphazardly over a biosuit. Their vocal inflections momentarily threw Hawkmoon for a loop; it was the same language at its core but sharper, quicker, less elaborate - all the more succinct to bark into a radio. It was almost its own dialect.

"They must be energon repositories," the peafowl clarified. "Or old warships held in reserve. It's unclear at this point."

"Drezhari hunger for both," the sole Myod rumbled. It towered over the rest and was entirely clad in power armour. Its stinger-tendrils drooped by its side. "Arch-Admiral, do we have permission to pursue?"

Oroses motioned for pause. She braced her hands against the edge of the table. "What is the state of the vector moon?"

"Open," a different Tai hissed. He was the very image of a bearded vulture but for a pair of lanky arms and four pitiless black eyes. His wings were wide and heavy, their feathers matted, and they hung from his body in a manner reminiscent of a cloak. "The plague-portal is open."

Another Tai beside them, wingless and clad in armour so heavy as to rival that of the Myod, clacked their hooked eagle beak. "Locals evacuated," he said, speaking in the same manner as the raven. "Only fiends."

"Very well. Maniikan? Destroy it."

The vulture inclined his maned head. "Your will be done, admiral."

"Destroy it?" Hawkmoon asked - wincing self-consciously when everyone turned to look at her.

Oroses shot her a warning look. "The universe is a battle for resources," she said brusquely, "and the pattern is a competitor. One we shall excise everywhere we find it."

Hawkmoon nodded slowly. The Tai quickly returned to their scheming.

"And the rest?" the peafowl questioned.

Oroses motioned to the hologram. "Show me."

The display shifted to portray Caminus and the field of retired cruisers in orbit above its largest city-state. Signatures marked with a glyph Hawkmoon translated as denoting Drezhari were scattered around the sprawl of vessels, closing in to form a screen against a Camien strike fleet.

"The bulk of their strength is here," the peafowl explained. "We believe they've been seeding some of these scuttled warships with troop injections. Their true objective is unknown."

"They're looking for something," the vulture, Maniikan, added. "There are other locations within this very system more defensible, why stay here?"

"Their attack craft are deflecting local efforts to uproot them with some success, but they won't hold to us," the peafowl continued.

Oroses hummed thoughtfully. "The Graveborn are not fools. They know this."

"Admiral?"

"Seeker, what's so important about these ships?"

Hawkmoon leaned against the holotable. "I don't know," she admitted. "This isn't a Cybertronian practice, and I'm not familiar with Camien customs. You'd be better served asking them directly."

"That task I'll leave to you." Oroses swung a hand towards the display. "Shipmasters, we advance on the surviving Drezhari. Prepare your squadrons for precision strikes - and wait for my order. Should the local mechanoforms raise issue, disengage. Am I clear?"

A round of affirmatives sounded from every Tai and Myod present.

"Very well. Proceed."

The holograms blinked out. The peafowl rounded the holotable gracefully, bowing her head before Oroses. "With your permission, Arch-Admiral, I shall escort the Seeker to the array myself."

Oroses regarded her... oddly. Odd in that Hawkmoon wasn't sure how to describe it; there was a strained fondness there. "Very well, shipmistress," she replied coldly. "But note that the Seeker Hawkmoon is wounded."

"I can arrange to have the Seeker carried," the peafowl dryly replied. She glanced at Hawkmoon curiously.

"No, I can manage myself just fine, thanks," she irritably informed them.

Oroses shot her another look. Don't be stubborn.

"Of course." The peafowl curtsied. "If the Seeker will follow me..." She made for the rear of the command deck and looked back expectantly. Hawkmoon, with some difficulty, followed after her. A retinue of soldiers formed around them as they left Oroses behind - all Tai, most of them wingless.

Out in the hall the peafowl slowed her pace to fall in step with Hawkmoon. "I am Cirino'zheferan, commander of the Anguish."

Hawkmoon nodded her greetings. "My designation's-"

"I know, Seeker. You are Hawkmoon, Emperor-favoured." Cirino motioned to their escort for room. Her raptorial claws were weighed down with dozens of glittering rings. The filed tips of her talons were painted red. "I judge from your survival that we are saved?"

Hawkmoon paused. "Yes," she said brusquely. "I suppose we are."

"You do not sound certain."

"The engram's intact. That's all I know."

"I see."

Hawkmoon peered at her. "Your brood name is zheferan?"

"Yes."

"The Arch-Admiral-"

"Indeed," Cirino said sharply. "Though I fail to see how it matters."

Hawkmoon absorbed that. She wasn't a stranger to complicated familial relationships. Or - Adria wasn't in any case. "Riiight. Carry on."

Cirino flicked her wings impatiently. "Please follow me."

They left the command deck behind and descended into near darkness, with only the faintest red lights running like veins along the walls to guide them. There was almost as little to be heard as well as seen, aside from the low hum of the ship's heart and the rasping hiss of strained air filters. Hawkmoon's own vent sensors reported the air composition to be similar to that of the Tai homeworld, if lighter in oxygen. Somewhere closer to Earth's O2 ratio, she thought.

The array was several levels above the command deck, near the battleplate's summit. As the door slid open twinkling lights flickered in the gloom - it was like its own night sky squirreled away where most would never find it. A dozen or so Tai awaited within, along with a single Eecharik freelancer. All momentarily looked over at the sound of her clanking footsteps before returning to their duties. Cirino guided her to the Eecharik's station. She spoke to them in quick chirps and tweets, croaks and lilting song; it was the language of Tai, much changed since Hawkmoon had last encountered them, and matched that of the wingless captains from earlier.

The Eecharik at last turned to her, inspecting her with its multi-faceted eyes. Its vespid head cocked sideways with mandibles chittering. "You are a mechanoform," it said. It almost sounded like Oor. Hawkmoon felt a pang of regret when she recalled the gunslinger. If ever there was a familiar face to look for from the old Protectorate, his would have been most welcome.

"Guilty as charged," Hawkmoon replied. "Can you get me in touch with Caminus? That's-"

"I know." The Eecharik waved her off with one of its many arms. Claws danced across archaic Taishibethi control terminals. "Their systems are not so different to our own. It is possible, but only if they are willing to receive us."

"Can't imagine why not." Hawkmoon motioned towards the station. "May I..."

The Eecharik looked at her strangely "What are you-"

Hawkmoon eschewed with waiting for permission and allowed her EM field to mesh with the closest terminal, connecting her processor with its systems. They'd forgive her, she was sure. Tai tech was remarkably intuitive; though its security measures were considerable for something built by organics, Hawkmoon took to guiding it towards her own designs with relative ease. She turned it outwards, felt her way along the active channels linking the Taishibethi fleet, and aimed it outwards. Caminus was a bright spark in the dark gulf, rising out of the chaos of the gas giant's roar like a shark fin. She linked it to her own comms systems, copied her ident-codes and sent a single tentative message out.

::This is Emirate Hawkmoon to Caminus, hostile spacebridge has been disabled. Xenoform reinforcements are en route to dislodge trespassers.::

The storm of Caminus' comms chatter swallowed it whole - and quickly soon spat back its own response. ::Message received. Xenoforms must retain current position or the Camien Defense Fleet shall open fire.::

Hawkmoon briefly offlined her optics, overcome with annoyance. ::Negative Caminus. Drezhari units are consolidating their remaining strength in your orbit. My cohorts have the means to excise them.::

::Negative. Emirate, xenoform units are ordered to retain current position. This is non-negotiable.::

"Have they heard you?" Cirino asked.

Hawkmoon shook her helm. "They're being stubborn. Your ships are scaring them. They don't want you getting any closer."

"They will be sorely disappointed."

She straightened with alarm. "They're not joking. Look, I'd rather they be open with us, but you can't-"

"We can," Cirino said softly, "and we must." She tapped at a beaded bracelet. "Advance. Raise frontal shields and ready injection pods."

"You're antagonizing them," Hawkmoon said sternly. "For no reason."

"Is your kin's welfare not reason enough?" Cirino gestured to her guards. "The Seeker has finished here; please escort her to the holding deck and reunite her with her companions."

Hawkmoon scowled. "This is a mistake. You're making a mistake."

"We have no choice." Cirino lowered her beak and looked over her critically. "This is our war, Seeker. Not yours. Your part here is finished."

"No. I'm not leaving it at that."

"Then I propose you take that up with the Arch-Admiral later." Talons clicked. The guards closed around them and Hawkmoon, glowering, detached herself from the relay. She nodded to the Eecharik on the way out, though they studiously ignored her. The guards brought her up a few levels, where the bustle of busied crew tapered out, and escorted her in near complete silence to a secure wing crawling with yet more wingless Tai armed to the beaks. Soon she was ushered past a reinforced door and into a modest chamber that her sensors read as having a mildly altered oxygen-nitrogen ratio to the rest of the ship. It was the Earth balance.

The humans - her humans - looked up as she entered. Praedyth was sat cross-legged and with his back hunched over, while Adria reclined over the smallest seat the Tai had available. It looked to her like a footrest. Adria's left arm was in a gel cast. Both their clothes and armour had been removed, stripped down to the biosuits beneath.

The door closed behind her.

"So..." Adria drawled. She folded her hands under the back of her head. "Aliens."

"Aliens," Hawkmoon sighed. She sat down with them, taking care not to accidently nudge them. There was enough power in her frame that an unwary touch could seriously harm, maybe even kill. "How're you two feeling?"

"You broke my arm."

"Sorry."

"Sorry doesn't mend bones."

"No, but that stuff sure does." Hawkmoon pointed. "What is it, some kind of cytogel?"

"Yeah, something like that." Adria absently poked at the jellied mass. "It's fine. We're alive."

"You're surprised?"

"I never want to fly with you again."

"Ouch."

"It's like you've never had passengers before."

Hawkmoon made a face. "Just the once."

Adria huffed. "'Course."

"So..."

"No," Praedyth said, hardly even looking at her. He was messing around with something - a datapad, it looked like. "Our hosts attempted communication but not to any meaningful degree. We haven't been able to establish anything. That was your question, yes?"

"What did they do?"

"Had themselves a look-see," Adria said quietly. "Poking and prodding; you know the kind. Oh so curious. Who are they?"

"Taishibethi." Hawkmoon looked the room over, checking for bugs, cameras, anything. Nothing immediately stood out to her. "What's left of them."

"Your friends?"

"'Friends' is a weird word for it, but sure."

"How'd they find us?"

"They followed the Drezhari. They're at war with each other, but then there's hardly anyone the Drezhari aren't at war with. Did they mishandle either of you?"

"It's fine," Adria muttered.

"What happened?"

"They pulled us from you. I thought I was dead. Again." Adria raised her head up to her. "Would've liked my first meeting with proper aliens to be on more even footing."

Hawkmoon made a quizzical face. "You don't think I'm an alien?"

"No. You're just me." Adria rolled her neck. "What's happening now?"

Hawkmoon leaned against the wall, flattening her wings against her back. "Drezhari, what's left of them, are fortifying over Caminus. Taishibethi are pressing on them now, but Caminus ain't happy. If anything they're scared shitless."

"You worried?"

"And then some."

"Think they'll hurt your Tai?"

"It's not the Tai I'm... my Tai?" Hawkmoon tilted her helm. "They ain't mine."

Adria shrugged. "So they're hitting the Skeletors. Shouldn't that be a good thing?"

"If Caminus antagonizes them it could get messy."

"So clear the air."

"I tried. Didn't work. I'm not diplomat material."

"It's a science," Praedyth said softly. They both turned to look at him. "Like any other. Party A wants something, Party B wants something else. In the event these ambitions collide, find a compromise."

Adria glanced at Hawkmoon with a raised eyebrow. The fuck is with this guy, she mouthed.

Hawkmoon shrugged. Warlocks, she answered. She pushed away from the wall and sat down with them. "Got any pointers I can use here?"

Praedyth exhaled. "Not particularly."

"You're antsy," Adria murmured. "Calm down."

"This ain't a good sitch." Hawkmoon shifted, folding her wings tightly against her back. "I can't just sit around and twiddle my thumbs while folk die."

"Sure you can. The onus isn't on you to fix every problem. People - human people - are inherently one step away from fucking everything up. Can't see how aliens are any different. Just the natural way of things. Curtail where you can, but you're not their mom."

Hawkmoon shot her a look. "Maybe that works for you, but this is my job."

"Was mine any different? SOLSECCENT, remember?"

"How could I ever forget."

"So trust me when I say it's alright to sit some missions out. Decompress, get some shut eye, find someone to just... exist with."

Hawkmoon vented. "Is that what you did?"

Adria nodded. Her eyes lowered to the floor. "I had my support system. Team, 'least when we weren't busy, my dad when he was still kickin', my..."

"Vaudren."

She looked at her strangely. "Yeah. You don't remember her like I do, do you?"

"It's... distant."

Adria nodded solemnly. She wore a faraway look. "I... I had breakfast with her just last week. Before I deployed."

Sorry, Hawkmoon almost said, but she stopped herself. She hadn't appreciated sympathy for her own losses; what was to say Adria was any different? Some small, indecent part of her figured that as a simulation Adria had nothing to grieve over in the first place, but she quickly drowned that thought. If nothing else the pain was real. "Speaking of breakfast," she said quickly, "have either of you eaten?"

Adria shrugged. Praedyth looked up and shook his head. "Not in... forever," he croaked, wincing.

Hawkmoon stood. "Lemme see if I can fix that." She walked to the door and rapped her knuckles against it. A moment passed before it opened. A wingless Tai stood on the other side. They were armed but their weapon was firmly holstered; they bowed their head to her, inclining their beak in a gesture of humility.

"Seeker," they whispered reverently.

Hawkmoon paused. "Uh... yeah. I've a request."

"I regret to report the Arch-Admiral and shipmistress are indisposed."

"That's not... My companions need food. Sustenance. Do you have anything they can eat?"

The Tai glanced past her. "Do they require much?"

"Comparative to your rations? No."

"Very well." The Tai hesitated. "What... intolerances do they have? We can supply bread and cloned meat-"

She hadn't considered that. Of course alien species would eat foods humans wouldn't find palatable, maybe even outright toxic. She recalled snagging some rancid Cabal rations back when Mars used to be a warfront, but that was probably a fluke. Ether could be safely ingested only in small servings and was outright lethal if absorbed in the human body by other means - while Eliksni all but bathed in the stuff. "Uncontaminated water for starters," Hawkmoon said. "We can try the bread. Do you have fruit?"

"Some. It's freeze-dried."

"We'll take that. Just... maybe have a, uh, medical officer on standby."

The Tai blinked its four eyes in unison. "Of course. We'll bring it to you shortly."

"Thanks." Hawkmoon backed off and the door quietly closed. She would've thought that to be the end of it but a shape phased through the door and stopped in front of her.

Augur.

"Hawkmoon," he said hesitantly.

Hawkmoon huffed, turned her back and sat with the humans. Augur followed her along and plopped down behind Praedyth. She sometimes forgot how large her world was; compared with them Augur was easily the size of a grizzly bear. His tails flicked behind him, betraying his anxiety.

"So?" Adria said.

Hawkmoon tore her gaze from the fox. "They'll bring you something. Just have to be careful that its, you know, safe for you."

"It is," Augur said.

She grimaced. "And how do you know that?"

Adria straightened. "What?"

"Not you. I'm talking to... this prick." Hawkmoon gestured in Augur's direction.

"I don't see-"

"Your alien cohort," Praedyth mused. "Is he here?"

"He is," Hawkmoon growled.

Augur tilted his vulpine head. "You're upset with me."

"No shit."

"Can he hear us?" Adria questioned.

Augur glanced at her and shivered. "This is improper," he said lowly. "She shouldn't be."

"Augur," Hawkmoon said in warning. "She's with me."

"She is you, is she not?"

"What of it?"

"It's not right-"

"You don't get to tell me what's right, you bastard. Not after the lie you sold me. Not after the target you painted on my back."

"Hawkmoon-"

"I deserved to know!" she thundered. Hawkmoon was aware of Adria and Praedyth recoiling but red-rimmed rage drowned them out. "You asked me to trust you, again and again, but you never returned the favour. It was always a manipulation. From start to finish you were using me to get your way."

"Would you have refused?"

"No! You knew I wouldn't! But you lied to me anyway." Hawkmoon flicked her claws towards the door. "Fuck off. We're done."

"Far from it," Augur murmured. He stood. "But if solitude is what you want, I'll give it to you." His bright eyes lingered on Adria. "Whatever vestigial urge drives you to humour this... this thing, don't-"

"Get. Out."

Augur sniffed. "You won't listen to reason?"

"From you?" Hawkmoon scowled. "Never. Get out. Get out!"

He padded the door, glanced at her, then left them be. She hated it. Hated how much she wanted to call him back. Hated how much the sight of him ticked her off.

"Is everything... alright?" Adria warily asked.

Hawkmoon vented hard. "He's gone."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"He's... fuck. Fuck!" She dropped her faceplates into her servos. "Fuck..."

"What's wrong?"

"He fucked me over." Hawkmoon raised her helm. "He'll be back soon enough. Always is."

Adria regarded her strangely. "You're having a spat with your imaginary friend?"

"He's not-"

"But we can't see him."

"No. You can't. No one can. 'Cept me and... just about everything that wants to kill us."

"Uhuh." Adria levered herself up and hobbled over. Hawkmoon felt her brace against her leg - palm pressing against exoplate. Then - she was climbing. Hawkmoon flinched, then stilled, afraid that any motion would either send Adria flying or crush an appendage. Her human self clambered up onto her knee joint and sat there, shifting to find a comfortable spot. "So."

"What are you doing?" Hawkmoon asked, utterly at a loss.

"Some stupid shit I'm only qualified to do on paper. Want to talk about it?"

"No."

"'Kay." Adria leaned back against the kneepad and closed her eyes.

"You're seriously offering me therapy?"

"I'm offering to talk."

"No thanks."

Adria opened one eye. "Offer's there. Up to you to take it."

"You going to move?"

"No."

"Adria-"

"So them." Adria absently waved in the direction of the door. "You speak their language."

Hawkmoon raised an optical ridge. "Yeah?"

"Is it difficult?"

"I... downloaded a couple of language packets."

Adria snorted. "That's cheating."

"Yeah? And?"

"Can you teach us?" Praedyth suddenly asked, finally setting the dataslate aside.

Hawkmoon had to stop herself from shifting position. Adria even went so far as to smack her leg and mutter "stay the fuck still." The sudden urge to throw her off was small, but it was definitely there. "I guess," she said at length. "Some of the pronunciations might be tricky."

"All we need is enough to establish an understanding. If we're to remain in their custody..."

He was angling for an answer. "I don't know," Hawkmoon admitted. "But they're the closest organics I trust."

"All the more reason to learn their tongue."

"Might as well keep busy." She nodded. "Alright."

By the time the Taishibethi saw fit to collect her, Hawkmoon had run through the basics of Tai grammar. Adria, surprisingly, had taken to it well - up until the food arrived. By then she was sufficiently distracted that Hawkmoon could catch Praedyth up to speed. She tried not to laugh when he messed up his deliveries and ended up sounding like a dying cockatiel. At least he was determined to pin it down.

When the door finally opened, and Oroses herself strode in, the humans fell silent and Hawkmoon carefully rose to her pedes. The Arch-Admiral eyed them with amusement. "You're training them?" she chirped.

"Trying," Hawkmoon said with a shrug.

Oroses nodded sagely. Her beak tilted in a Tai approximation of a smile. "Don't let them speak publicly. It would incite the masses to violence."

"What're they saying?" Adria murmured, nudging Hawkmoon's leg.

"She's making a joke," Hawkmoon supplied. "This is Oroses'zheferan, Arch-Admiral of the Taishibethi. Oroses," she switched to Tai, "this is Adria and Praedyth."

Oroses lowered to a knee and craned her neck down. "They're tiny," she said softly. "As small as hatchlings." She glanced up at her. "They're your original species?"

"Yeah." Hawkmoon shifted impatiently. "What's happening out there?"

Oroses stood and dusted her robes off, schooling her expression. "We now understand why the Drezhari are here."

"Other than killing me?"

"Indeed. Follow." Oroses stepped out. Hawkmoon shared a look with the humans before trailing after her. Armed guards fell in step on either side of them. "We've excised the Drezhari agents within the derelict fleet by injecting Myod exterminator squadrons. We believe they intended to hijack the ships."

"Don't they have their own?"

"Not like these." They entered an elevator and rode it several decks up. "They're living beings. Like you."

"The warships?" Hawkmoon asked incredulously.

Oroses nodded. "Dormant but alive. The Drezhari slaughtered others of your kind within; it's our understanding that the Graveborn sought to keep them from rousing the giants."

"What about Caminus?"

"Their fleets opened fire - briefly." Oroses spared her a hesitant look. "Our shields held. It wasn't until my Myod agents encountered a survivor aboard the dormant warships that they abated. They're still reluctant to speak with us.

"I should've been allowed to clear the air," Hawkmoon said. "Cirino-"

"Made a valid decision. I stand by her." Oroses held up a hand for peace when Hawkmoon started to argue. "Our priority is to destroy the Drezhari. We now know your kin hold these ships as a holy site; there was little you could do to convince them of otherwise. Any delay would have cost more lives."

Hawkmoon grimaced. "I guess what's done is done."

"Just so." Oroses paused. "Some of the locals-"

"The Camiens."

"Indeed. Some of the Camiens are injured." She stopped and turned to her. "If you can convince them to allow us to transfer them to ground..."

"Of course."

"Always so eager. Still, I don't want to risk your life."

Hawkmoon raised an optical ridge. "You already got your package."

"Do you think you're no longer useful?" Oroses' quills flicked.

"Dunno why you would. You reckon you can use me as a bargaining chip?"

"I think you can decide that for yourself." Oroses resumed walking. "I don't want to come to blows with Cybertron and its colonies. My people have only recently settled in. It wouldn't be fair to open a new warfront."

"Fair to your folk," Hawkmoon said with a frown. "Not because its wrong."

"The welfare of my people takes priority."

"You've changed."

"Oh?"

"Not... I mean all of you. You're... you're not so idealistic anymore."

Oroses gaze hardened. "Does that surprise you?"

"... I just miss when people cared," Hawkmoon muttered. "The Tai used to believe they could champion the universe's every problem."

"The universe wants us dead. We're not the Protectorate, Seeker. We're the Remnant." Oroses' features softened. "But I grasp your concerns."

"They're not concerns," Hawkmoon said coolly. "Only observations."

Oroses grunted. "It pleases me to see you haven't changed. Still the unrepentant maverick."

Hawkmoon smiled despite herself.

They ported her over to one of the Cybertronian vessels in an armoured shuttle flanked by an entire fold-fighter squadron. A pair of Taishibethi technicians were all but glued to her side; Oroses hadn't wanted to send her out without someone to watch her injuries. The rest of the shuttle's hold was occupied by Myod supersoldiers. Their rumbling whalesong shook her plate down to the struts. When the docking ramp lowered they marched out in neat order, clutching silvered railcannons to their chests.

They led her out with suffocating care. Other squadrons already deployed covered their approach to the ship's bridge. The architecture was familiarly Cybertronian but the feel of it was... oddly terrifying. Hawkmoon was used to the hum of electrical systems and storm of inane chatter every conventional ship radiated, but here there was life. Her comms systems caught on low whispers - the mumblings of a sleeping giant. An EM field greater than any she'd ever felt before pressed in from every angle. It carried the sensation of being underwater. Every step towards the bridge at its heart felt like plunging headfirst into somewhere forbidden. She couldn't shake the fear that at any moment the warship could wake up and kill them all.

"Here," one of the Myod commanders bellowed. They stopped before a wide circular door locked shut. A trio of Cybertronian bodies had been respectfully laid out before it, while a dozen shattered Drezhari drones were piled in the far corner.

"Alright," Hawkmoon vented. She stepped forward and connected with the access terminal, sending forth a query. ::Hello?::

::Who is this?:: someone quickly replied.

::Emirate Hawkmoon of Cybertron.:: Just to ease things Hawkmoon uploaded her permissions. ::I understand you have wounded inside?::

The next response took a while. ::Just me, ma'am,:: they said. ::The invaders. Are they...::

::They're gone.::

::What about the organics?::

::They're trying to raise comms with Caminus,:: Hawkmoon explained. ::They want to ferry you planetside, where you can be seen to by someone who knows what they're doing.::

::They have to leave. Now.::

::I can arrange that.:: Hawkmoon motioned to the Myods. "Head back to the transports."

The Myod commander saluted and rumbled a deep "affirmative" and the molluscs stomped away. Hawkmoon turned back to the terminal. ::They're going to wait on us.::

::Some are still with you.::

Hawkmoon glanced at the technicians. ::They're here in case our injuries act up.::

::Our injuries?::

::I took some fire near Mederi.::

::Ma'am, I... I can't open this door with organics so close. I'm sorry.::

::I see.:: Hawkmoon ushered the Tai away with a whistle and a stern look. ::How about now?::

No answer came. The thin air filled with the sound of hissing steam and clanking mechanisms as the lock's disengaged. The door rolled out of the way and a dark blue femme staggered out. She had the frame of a warrior, but her servos were devoid of weapons. One of her arms hung limp; the shoulder joint had taken a brutal hit. "Astraea," she tiredly reported, closing her functioning servo over her spark. Her faceplates had an unusual patterned paintjob. "City-speaker of Caminus. Welcome to Carcer, Emirate."

Hawkmoon nodded slowly. She motioned to the ship around them. "Carcer being..."

"This old lug." Astraea tapped the doorframe with the back of her servo. "He's still in stasis-lock."

"The Drezhari breaking in didn't wake him up?"

Astraea shook her helm. "No ma'am. That's my job. I'm still under orders to keep him down."

"From who?"

"Pyra Magna." Astraea hesitated. "It was a close thing. If they'd gotten inside the bridge-"

"Thank the Tai they didn't." Hawkmoon held out an arm. "Do you need help?"

"I can manage, ma'am." Astraea's optics drifted to the bodies. Her faceplates tightened.

"Friends?"

"My crew."

"You flew together?"

"No ma'am. But we served. Carcer was their charge as much as mine."

Hawkmoon grimaced. "Astraea, there are other Camiens across the fleet in worse state than you. Can you instruct them that the Tai are here to help?"

Astraea shook her helm. "Ma'am, we're under orders. We can't leave our post."

"Do I outrank Pyra Magna?"

"I... guess so."

"Then relay it. Only the wounded. The Tai aren't here to seize these..." Hawkmoon struggled for an appropriate term.

"Titans, ma'am," Astraea supplied.

Titans. Right. "Their only concern is the Drezhari. This is just their favour to me."

"They're friends of yours?"

"Something like that. I'd like to convince Pyra Magna of the same."

"I'm contacting her now, ma'am." Astraea's optics flickered. "She demands that the organics' warships clear a space from around the Titans."

"That can be arranged." Hawkmoon relayed the message to the Anguish. Oroses' response was immediate. "They're moving now."

"And all alien boarders are to quit the fleet within the joor."

"Understood."

"The Mistress..." Astraea paused. "Your presence on Caminus is requested, ma'am."

Of course it is, Hawkmoon thought. "I bet they want an explanation."

"I think we all do."

"You'll get it. C'mon."

Astraea nodded and tapped a series of keys on the terminal. The door shuddered to a close behind her.

"Locking up?"

"Orders, ma'am. Protocol necessitates that only the assigned city-speaker can be permitted access to the bridge."

Hawkmoon absorbed that. "Is city-speaking a Camien thing?"

Astraea worriedly glanced at her as they walked. "Are we the only ones left?"

"No one ever mentioned it to me before."

"That's... not comforting."

"What does it mean?"

"It's... it's a communion. Usually with cityformers, Titans, and rarely anything else. We're installed with blessed modifications to link our sparks with the great machineens in a sort of... bond. Intimate for us, fleeting for them."

"There was a city-speaker," Hawkmoon said slowly. "On Mederi."

Astraea nodded. "I think I know her. Windblade? She was assigned to establish contact with the Radial Orator."

"The Vex."

"The... what?"

"The life within," Hawkmoon clarified. "They're called the Vex. And they're not the diplomatic sort. You'd do well to avoid attracting their attention. Your Radial Orator was a portal of theirs."

"It's open?"

"It's gone. Along with Mederi." Hawkmoon caught her look and amended, "I've been told all Camien personnel had evacuated in time."

"I... see."

"Tell me more about these Titans."

Astraea reluctantly followed along. "They're the oldest of us, the greatest barring the Primes themselves. The Mistress says they were functioning when the Thirteen still walked among us."

"The Mistress?"

"The Mistress of Flame." Astraea frowned. "Master of the Way. You've not heard of her?"

"Didn't exactly have the time to read up on Camien customs," Hawkmoon grumbled. They emerged into the hangar. Astraea physically flinched at the sight of the Myods and the Tai, but Hawkmoon took her by the elbow and guided her towards the shuttle. "I'm sure we'll clear everything up as soon as we reach solid ground."

The Camiens received her and her Tai escort at their capital, Pharus Majoris. They beamed her the coordinates towards a secured landing pad and Hawkmoon passed it onto the Taishibethi pilots, then settled in to watch the moon rise towards them. Caminus was a pale imitation of Cybertron, with only part of the planetoid settled and even then the infrastructure was markedly more conservative. Massive fields of solar panels surrounded the city; most of the wilderness was given over to vast rocklands and gouging canyons, peppered with crystalline structures not unlike trees. A vast sandstorm loomed in the distance but an atmospheric shield stood firmly in its path. Within the walls most of Pharus was a disorganised mess, penned in by huge electrical cables resembling aqueaducts and with a core citadel-block formed from what appeared to be a former colony ship.

"That's Caminus himself," Astraea pointed out.

Hawkmoon looked at her oddly. "Him?"

"The Titan who led us here."

Hawkmoon looked out the viewport again. "That's a Titan?"

"Yeah."

"He's massive." Easily twice the size of any of the warships in orbit. He accounted for at least a third of the city's total mass.

"Yeah."

"And he's just... there?"

"Yeah."

Hawkmoon vented a low whistle. "Wild."

The shuttle dipped towards the city's one spaceport, where hovercraft and throngs of soldiers waited to take them into custody. They touched down, the ramp lowered, and the Myods stormed out to create a physical barrier between the Camiens and her. Hawkmoon disembarked after them and, after looking around, saw there was little to be concerned about at all. The lighting was darker than she was used to, but the air was oddly free of the same toxic pollutants that plagued Cybertron. The Camien warriors, to her amusement, were armed with little more than electroblades and heat-glaives. There was but one cannon between them, pinned to the local commander's shoulder. A small group of mecha bearing the age-old colours of Cybertronian combat medics broke away from the gathering and approached. Hawkmoon ordered the Myods to make way with a chop of her servo and ushered Astraea over. One of the mecha steadied her and another took a look at her slagged shoulder. A third bowed to Hawkmoon at the waist. "Emirate," they intoned. "It's an honour."

"Where's Pyra Magna?" she demanded impatiently. "Or, hell, anyone from command?"

"She'll arrive shortly. The Mistress of Flame insists you be taken to safety." The mech glanced at the Myods. "The organics-"

"My entourage," Hawkmoon said firmly, "will accompany me."

"Madame-"

"The Taishibethi are here on my behalf. They're not keen on leaving me at the mercies of hidden Drezhari agents."

The mech was scandalized. "Madame! I assure you Caminus is secure!"

"You'd be surprised." She jutted her chin towards the Camien commander. "Is that my escort?"

"Yes madame."

"Good." Hawkmoon motioned to the Myods. Half of the squad took up position around the shuttle, while the rest - along with a Tai - fell in behind her. Other shuttles were descending from orbit but they were still a ways out. She turned to the Tai and said, "How're we looking?"

"Connection is... secure," they replied, tapping at an implant behind their eyes. A heavy rebreather covered their beak. "The fleet is watching."

"Then let's not waste any more time." Hawkmoon looked at the commander, who obediently stepped forward. "Lead the way."

The mech eyed the Myods distastefully yet brooked no argument, instead nodding sharply and turning on his heel. Wordlessly the Camien ranks folded around them and set for the spaceport itself. Crowds had gathered within; Hawkmoon was reminded of the busier parts of Iacon but the frames on display were nowhere near so uniform. Clades and castes mixed in a refreshing show of tolerance. Few mecha had the same paintjob and many boasted strange kinds of kibble.

Propelled by a strange urgency, the soldiers hurried them through to a fortified access tunnel and from there smuggled them somewhere in the city's heart. Like Carcer above Hawkmoon gradually became aware of a colossal presence of a Titan - of Caminus. His EM field was dormant, deeper than the others. If anything he felt half-dead. She couldn't suppress the feeling that they were worming their way into the rotting cadaver of something long past its expiration date.

::We're still with you,:: Oroses murmured. The Arch-Admiral's voice was a treasured comfort, particularly in the wake of Augur's absence. For all that she hated (loved, loved with everything she had, if only at a distance) the suffocating pressure of true civilization, of society and all its constricting expectations, it always came as a reassurance to have someone in her corner. ::If needs must we can extract you with a transmat lock.::

::Thank you,:: Hawkmoon gratefully replied.

They emerged into a grand hall resembling a temple. Cauldrons filled with flames flanked a low-sloping stairway up to a grand dais. Camien Enforcers were everywhere, many of them hurrying about. Others took up position close by, watching the Myods with naked loathing. Eventually their guide, the escort's commander, turned to her with a grim expression. "They can go no farther," he said firmly. "This place is sacred; their presence dirties these hallowed grounds."

"Then your leaders can meet me here," Hawkmoon retorted. "They're with me. I'm not leaving them behind."

"Madame Emirate, you have the honourable word of Caminus that we will protect you."

"It's not about honour." She raised her helm defiantly, flooding her EM field with indignation. "It's trust."

The soldier seemed as if about to retort but paused. "Very well," he muttered, bowing his helm. "The Mistress permits you to bring two organics of your choosing."

::It's better than nothing,:: Oroses chirped. ::Take a Myod pair.::

Hawkmoon motioned to the closest molluscs. They closed in beside her. The commander looked up at them disdainfully, then turned back to her. "Please follow me."

He led them up the dais. It shuddered and rose - an old, weathered elevator. The next floor was starkly darker, cast in flickering shadow, though the shine of Hawkmoon's optics cut right through it. It was empty save for a colossal pyre at the other end. A femme as tall as Hawkmoon stood beside it, one servo clutching a decorated sceptre shaped like a warhammer and the other resting on the cauldron's rim. She gazed into the flames in much the same way a Warlock would watch the near-imperceptible motions of the Traveler - utterly transfixed.

::Three guesses who that is,:: Hawkmoon murmured.

Oroses audibly clacked her beak over. ::Their Mistress.::

:: Clearly she takes her job very seriously.:: Hawkmoon stepped forth. "Uh-"

"You are the Cybertronian Emirate?" The femme turned to look upon her. "A Seeker."

"That'll be me. Hawkmoon of Cybertron."

"I am the Mistress of Flame." The Mistress gathered herself up and stepped away from the pyre. The flames silhouetted her frame. "I am told the Prime is dead."

Hawkmoon nodded grimly. "I came to find his killer."

"And did you?"

"Yeah."

The Mistress raised an optical ridge. "You killed him."

"He died of wounds someone else gave him," Hawkmoon corrected. "Someone who wanted to cover their tracks. Someone who orchestrated the whole fragging thing."

"I presume you did not find them beyond the portal? Beyond the Radial Orator?"

"No."

"I see." The Mistress paused and looked away. Another femme, huge and brawny and shelled in thick armour, entered via another entrance and knelt before her. "I have also been informed Mederi is... gone."

"The Drezhari would have enticed the Vex to come through," Hawkmoon answered honestly. "It wasn't my intent to destroy the entire moon, but the Tai have the right of it."

"The Tai. Your organic cohorts." The Mistress' faceplates didn't so much as twitch. She was far enough away that Hawkmoon couldn't read her EM field either. "Why are they here?"

"The Drezhari pulled forces from other systems to here. They followed 'em. The Tai and the Drezhari are at war - and the Tai are old friends."

"But why have the Drezhari come? What insult has Caminus offered them?"

"I... imagine it was for me. Though..." Hawkmoon pointedly glanced up. "Your Titan fleet certainly caught their eye."

"Clearly." The Mistress' optics narrowed. "Why are you still here, Emirate? Do you require a refuel? Or perhaps a surgeon to conduct repairs?"

"I... wouldn't be adverse to it," Hawkmoon admitted. "But really I just wanted to make sure no one else got hurt."

"These Drezhari slaughtered sanctified Titan crews."

"I know-"

"They've made off with three Titans. Your intervention may have preserved the rest of the fleet, but you say you brought them here?"

"Only because they killed Zeta Prime."

"These Drezhari are responsible?" The Mistress paused. "Caminus mourns with Cybertron; the Primes know the will of Primus and follow in the steps of the Thirteen. I doubt any of us will soon recover from this loss."

"The Drezhari openly attacked your holdings," Hawkmoon said carefully. "They've killed your people."

"What of it?"

"Would you be willing to testify it before Iacon?"

The Mistress tilted her helm. "Iacon?"

"The Council there seeks to establish a centralized global government. I've been having... difficulties convincing my contacts of Drezhari tampering."

"What of the Prime's killer?"

"Oh, he's given me enough," Hawkmoon said, "but I'd be glad not to be the only voice calling them out."

The Mistress looked at her strangely. "What are the Drezhari to you?"

"The enemy."

"And what do you seek to achieve by this?"

"I..." Hawkmoon hesitated. "I don't know."

"Because we see only war, Emirate." The other femme rose to her pedes. She clanged a clenched servo to her cuirass. "Pyra Magna. We spoke."

"We did." Hawkmoon eyed her suspiciously. There were gouges in her armor. Scorch marks. "You saw action?"

"On Mederi," Pyra Magna said proudly. "Before you smashed it to dust."

"You're part of that combiner?"

"Victorion, Emirate. An honour to function."

"What you propose would mean war - to turn our resources to the stars at Cybertron's behest," the Mistress said cuttingly. Pyra Magna fell silent and bowed her head. "To send our mecha, my mecha, to die in the void or on alien soil. Beyond Caminus' embrace."

"Would you prefer to die here?" Hawkmoon raised an optical ridge. "Butchered to a frame? Stripped for parts, Titans seized?"

The Mistress of Flame flinched. "The Drezhari-"

"Will come back. They're at war with at least the Taishibethi and the Eimin-Tin's Stratocracy. They've killed the Prime. Cybertron's a target, they've made that clear. How much longer before they turn their attention to its colonies?"

"They didn't hesitate to attack our research facility on Mederi," Pyra Magna murmured. "The Titans-"

The Mistress glanced at her. "The Titans are tired."

"They'll rouse for the sake of their stolen brothers."

"Why would the aliens take them?" the Mistress murmured. "Why?"

"Because we're living tech," Hawkmoon said. "Something the Drezhari will kill to have. I'm pretty sure they took Freeport Azal for the same reason."

That caught their attention. "The audacity of aliens knows no limits," the Mistress said after a significant pause. Her servo clenched until a scraping sound pierced the air, followed by the faint drip-drip-drip of energon. "The Forgefire Parliament will convene this off-cycle. You'll have your answer on the morrow, Emirate."

"Thank you."

The Mistress' expression twisted. "Inform your cohorts to clear our orbit. Their warships sully our skies."

Hawkmoon paused. "I'll tell 'em as much-"

"Quarters shall be prepared for you on temple grounds." The Mistress sharply turned away. "Would that you had arrived under better circumstances..."

Hawkmoon hesitated.

"Come." Pyra Magna motioned to her. "I'll show you where you'll stay."

"I'd rather-"

:: Do as they say,:: Oroses ordered. She'd been listening in by way of Hawkmoon's own sensors. ::We can play to their tune a while longer.::

:: But the humans...::

::They won't suffer in our care. When you've finished here, find us at the gas giant's pole. We'll speak of plans to come. Good luck.::

"You'd rather... what?" Pyra Magna queried.

Hawkmoon vented and shook her helm. "Nothing. Lead the way." She gestured to the Myods and they fell in step behind her.

They allowed her to collect the rest of her entourage before leading her down a different wing. The feeling of Caminus' presence remained a constant. From her brushes with Pyra Magna Hawkmoon felt something... not quite like a common bond, but a feeling of reverence and adoration. A comforting familiarity, awash in all the hues of anger, fear, hate. It was enough to drive her own EM bubble back into her frame. Caminus himself didn't radiate much feeling, too dead to the world to care. She wondered if the other Titans were in a similar state - entombed in their own frames and left to rot in limbo.

"Here," Pyra Magna said. She gestured into a grand suite. A couple of local mecha hurried to finish polishing the walls and dusting off elaborate furniture. Like those outside their paintjobs and kibble were far from uniform, but all of them were in line with the more... average Cybertronian size - which put them as smaller than Seekers. Pyra Magna and the Mistress seemed to be the only outliers in that regard.

"How long before I have my answer, do you reckon?" Hawkmoon asked. She stepped in and looked the place over.

"It's parliament," Pyra Magna said as if that were any answer. "You'll get it when you get it."

"What do you think?"

"About?"

"About war." Hawkmoon glanced back at her.

Pyra Magna shrugged. "I serve, one way or another."

"You're not eager?"

"I didn't say that."

"Your Mistress - she seems... hesitant."

"There's a lot at stake."

Hawkmoon nodded slowly. "Those Titans," she said after a little while. "Why do you keep them up there?"

Pyra Magna huffed through her vents. "Not as if there's much room down here."

"But Caminus-"

"Caminus surrendered his function that we might prosper. We tend to the rest to repay that action."

"But why keep them in stasis lock?"

"Because there's little enough energon to go around."

The same old song and dance. "If we go to war," Hawkmoon said softly, "will you wake them up?"

Pyra Magna hesitated. "We'd beggar ourselves to do so."

"You think there's a choice?"

"I think... the Mistress is wise to be wary."

"Maybe." The last of the staff finished up and filed out, their helms held low. Hawkmoon's Myods and singular Tai marched in and set up their new stations. The Tai planted a fold-terminal on the banquet table and attached it to their mobile comm-pack.

"You trust these things?" Pyra Magna suddenly questioned. She frowned at them.

"More than most mecha," Hawkmoon coolly replied.

"Huh. I'll leave you to it." She paused. "I'll send for that surgeon. Those organics don't know a joint weld from a scrap plate."

"Thanks."

The door closed. Hawkmoon all but collapsed into a chair, cringing at the feel of cold steel sliding along her sensitive wings. The Tai smartly elected not to disturb her. She wasn't left long in waiting; hardly a couple of joors passed before the door dinged and a plated Myod ushered the Camien doctor inside. He looked at each of the organics with wide, nervous optics, then caught sight of her. Hawkmoon motioned to a seat next to her.

"Ah," he said, "Emirate-"

"My plate's been patched, my energon lines soldered closed, but my struts are still raw and my self-repairs might be a tad frazzled," she said. "It's taking them too long to adapt the new material."

"Let me see." The mech orientated himself to face her injured side. "The field-dressing's sloppy. Who tended to you?"

"Taishibethi." She nodded to the lone bird.

"Well, find someone closer to us next time. Have you tried transforming?"

"No?"

"Don't. Your plate needs to settle. Give it another orn."

"And if I need to transform?"

"Then it'll hurt. A lot."

Hawkmoon shuttered her optics. "Great."

"You have somewhere to be?"

"Always."

"I'd put a pin in that."

"Is there anything you can do?"

"These scrap alloys are... alien, correct? Your systems aren't coded to know them; it's natural for your nanites to take some time. I don't see anything wrong with them. How did you come by these injuries?"

"I took fire over your gas giant."

"How long will you be staying?"

"Not long. Cybertron will want me back."

The surgeon nodded. "I'd recommend regularly checking in with a medical professional. You're from Vos?"

"Aye."

"What's..." he hesitated. "What's it like?"

Hawkmoon glanced at him. "Tall."

"I'd imagine. I'm not familiar with Seeker anatomy, so I apologise if I can't treat your flight equipment-"

"My wings are fine."

"You should count yourself lucky."

"Always do."

"Good." The mech stood. He dropped a pair of phials on the table. "This one's a nanite booster and this one packs diluted red energon, already pre-processed. It should give your self-repairs the boost you need to be flight-ready by next orn."

"Thank you. That's... mighty thoughtful."

"An honour, Emirate." He curtsied and left.

Parliament on Caminus was a publicly aired affair - but, as Hawkmoon soon discovered, dreadfully boring. It was blared on open channels across the city, maybe even the planet. As far as she could see the other mecha in the temple stopped, their optics flickering, and then carried on with their day while watching. The broadcast painted across her HUD a live feed of a tiered atrium, in which dozens of mecha shouted at one another and gestured angrily at one another. Hawkmoon quickly zoned out; it was difficult enough to hear what they were talking about, let alone what any of it meant. The Mistress of Flame, positioned above them all, slammed the pommel of her staff against the floor when they got too rowdy.

She watched while wandering the temple grounds. The mecha she passed bowed their helms to her and hid scowls as her Myod bodyguard followed mere steps behind. Joors passed and she did a loop of the entire compound, eventually returning to her quarters to find fresh energon cubes waiting for her. Her systems sighed in relief the moment the fuel hit her tanks. The stuff the Tai had pumped into her energon lines was fine, but it wasn't entirely healthy either. It was the difference between a fresh homemade meal with real ingredients or a freeze-dried nutrient block. Hawkmoon knew which kind she preferred.

At some point after she'd finished her first cube parliament had adjourned. Hawkmoon replayed her memory logs but it was just more of the same grandstanding and temper tantrums, followed by a period of stark silence. The Mistress of Flame turned to a statue in the shape of a burly femme and whispered the words, "Forgive us."

The rest of the mecha took to their pedes and filed out. The broadcast cut short.

"We may have a resolution," Hawkmoon murmured.

The Tai glanced over. "Seeker?"

"The Camiens. They've decided something. I don't-"

The door opened. Pyra Magna entered, her armour repaired and repainted, and was followed in by two femmes - one of which Hawkmoon half remembered. "Ma'am Emirate," Pyra Magna said gruffly. "You been watching?"

"Can't say I have," Hawkmoon lied. She stood. "You have an answer for me?"

Pyra Magna gestured to the femmes. "This is Windblade."

"Madame." The slighter of the femmes, a demi-Seeker, bowed. Her faceplates were touched up with an unusual pattern of paints, brighter than Astraea's, while her frame was red on black. It was she Hawkmoon recognized. "We met-"

"On Mederi," Hawkmoon finished. "You were the Cityspeaker. You were trying to reach the Vex."

Windblade smiled warily. "The Radial Orator. We... never thought it would activate, and then you stepped through..."

"You're lucky it chose to remain silent. The Vex don't understand the concept of friendship. They'd have killed you."

"I know that now. But they're like us-"

"The Vex aren't like anything," Hawkmoon said sternly. "It's their mission to rectify that by turning everything else into them. Don't try to relate. They'll use it against you."

Windblade's smile faded. "I-I'm sorry."

"It's fine. You're alive, the Tai destroyed the portal. Caminus will live to see another day." Hawkmoon glanced at the third femme, all blue and silver and built like a soldier. "Who are you?"

"Chromia." She saluted. "Here on orders of the Forgefire Parliament."

"Ah. Why are they here?" Hawkmoon turned back to Pyra Magna.

"Windblade can give testimony to your Iacon," Pyra Magna rumbled. "Chromia will keep her safe."

"So you've decided?"

"Caminus will fight - but only if Cybertron declares first."

Hawkmoon tilted her helm. "The Drezhari attacked without provocation. They've stolen Titans-"

"If Caminus stands alone we die. We can't afford the risk."

"You're not alone. The Taishibethi war with the Drezhari. The Eimin-Tin too."

Pyra Magna shook her helm. "The Mistress won't leave our fate in the hands of organics."

Hawkmoon vented deeply. "Of course not."

"The next part's up to you, Emirate. I've done what I can." She hesitated. "I can arrange for a shuttle, if you'd like?"

"Are these two flight worthy?"

Windblade nodded. Chromia hesitated. "I can be," she said, though her tone indicated otherwise. "My alt-form doesn't support leaving the atmosphere."

Hawkmoon waved her off. "The Taishibethi will help us there. What about re-entry?"

"I'm... capable, Emirate."

"Good. How long will you be?"

"Ma'am?"

"To prepare to leave?"

Chromia and Windblade shared a look. "Now, ma'am. We understand there's a rush-"

"Good. Good, good." Hawkmoon gestured to the Tai. Good to go. "Not to spit your hospitality, Pyra Magna, but I'm achin' to get home. Are we clear to bounce?"

"Nothing we can do to stop you," Pyra Magna mused. "The Mistress sends her well-wishes."

"Give her mine." Hawkmoon looked to the other two. "Follow me."

They, flanked by Myods and led by another squad of Camiens, marched quickly through the city's tunnels back to the spaceport. The Taishibethi shuttle waited for them on a different landing bay, but there was little issue boarding. Camien security ushered them on beneath the eye of the bustling crowds. Hawkmoon was left under the impression they were eager to finally see the aliens' backs. Chromia and Windblade sat with her and tried their best not to look uncomfortable with their neighbours. The silence was both awkward and deafening. It was almost a relief when Winblade spoke up.

"I've heard these... Tai belong to you," she said curiously.

Hawkmoon shot her a warning look. "They're old acquaintances."

"Ah. Right, my apologies." Another bout of silence stretched on.

Hawkmoon groaned and sat forward. "Look. If you have issues with organics-"

"No, no issue at all!"

"... Let me finish. If either of you have issues with organics then keep it to yourself. I don't want to hear a damn thing, you got that?"

Chromia nodded wordlessly.

"I just..." Windblade paused. "Why?"

"Why do I want you to shut up?"

"No, I... I don't understand why they're here."

"They followed the Drezhari," Hawkmoon said brusquely. "And the Drezhari followed Nightbeat."

"That was your fugitive?"

"Yeah."

"Is he..."

"He's dead."

Windblade's expression fell. "Oh."

"And you?"

"Emirate?"

"You were there when the Drezhari attacked Mederi?"

"I was." Windblade hesitated. "They were brutal. They... they killed mecha I knew. Why?"

"Because they can." Hawkmoon leaned back. "Come to me with questions later. The moment we arrive I'll have to talk things out with the Taishibethi."

"You have their language files," Chromia said.

"I do."

"Will we need them?"

"Eh... I don't suppose it could hurt." Hawkmoon beamed the pair of them the appropriate datapackets. "Behave. The Tai are patient but I don't want any delays."

They responded with varying levels of enthusiasm.

An Excubitor waited for them in the Anguish's hangar bay. Chromia's EM field flared with wary surprise at the sight of it but Windblade's was coloured with nervous eagerness. It rumbled its greetings and motioned to Hawkmoon with a stinger tendril. "The Arch-Admiral is waiting," it warbled. "Follow."

Hawkmoon dipped her helm. The resulting march took them into the warship's heart, back to the command deck. Hawkmoon noted that the air quality was changed; the reason for it was apparent inside. Oroses'zheferan sat by the holotadeck - now laden like a banquet table - with Cirino, an Eecharik and the humans. Adria immediately looked her way; Praedyth was busy trying to sign something to the Eecharik. Augur was there as well, lounging in the corner of the room, but she made a point of ignoring him.

"Seeker," Cirino murmured.

"Hawkmoon," Oroses chirped. She stood and tilted her head. "It went well?"

"Caminus aren't happy with you, but they know what's up." Hawkmoon crossed her arms. "What's this?"

Oroses looked at her, then Cirino. "Curious creatures," the peafowl said, glanced down at the humans. Praedyth hardly paid her any attention but Adria was watching with narrowed eyes. "Their aerobic requirements are very... specific."

"Oroses?"

The Admiral flicked her beak sharply. "Leave us."

The Eecharik chittered its farewells, bowed to Hawkmoon and dutifully filed out. Windblade and Chromia looked to her but Hawkmoon gestured for them to follow. Praedyth at last turned to her and, quite pointedly, glanced to Adria and raised his eyebrows. They know, he discreetly mouthed. Flickers of Light darted between his fingers. The coronas crossing his skin had dimmed - an Awoken's indication of anxiousness.

A sinking feeling settled in her chassis. Hawkmoon's servos fell by her side. "Oroses-"

Oroses raised her hand. "You too."

Cirino's head snapped around. "What?"

"Get out."

"... By your will, admiral." Stiffly, she curtsied to both her and Hawkmoon and left with a whoosh of her fanned tail. The door closed shut behind her. Oroses looked at Hawkmoon. Hawkmoon stared back.

"It struck me," Oroses said, "that you told us your species weren't yet developed, perhaps not even evolved. You said this. Before Úthaessel herself."

"I can't be sure-"

"But the fact remains that your homeworld is far from here. I cannot presume to understand the strange life you lead, Hawkmoon, nor the dangers you face, but even this strikes me as abnormal." Oroses looked down at the humans. Her claws tapped against the holodeck's edge. "One of them is a true living thing - altered in spirit and form but no less real. The other..."

"She's me."

Oroses' head snapped up. "You?"

"The Vex ran a sim." Hawkmoon held out her empty servos. "I crossed a Mind and it tried to compute me. She's what it came up with."

"She isn't human."

"Yes she is. Sims aren't any less real. Not how the Vex make 'em."

Oroses looked between her and Adria. Her claws scraped across the table. For the first time Hawkmoon felt fear of the damage a Tai could inflict - particularly on a vulnerable human body. "You brought a Vex specimen aboard my ship."

"No."

"No?"

"You did that." Hawkmoon raised her chin. "You wanted me here."

"If I had known the risks-"

"What risks? She's as real as either of us. Her flesh, her blood, her mind - that's all material, that's all authentic. Whether she was trueborn or some radiolarian engine manifested her makes no difference."

"No difference?" Oroses echoed. Her rear pair of eyes shuttered. Hawkmoon recognized it as a Taishibethi scowl. "You know our stance on the Vex."

"She's not competition!"

"The air she breathes, the food she eats, the water she drinks? She takes those resources from a universe already strained."

Hawkmoon paused. Something like anger broiled in her tanks. "What about me? Surely you think I can't belong here any more than she does, right?"

Oroses froze. Her eyes closed. "No. That would make me a hypocrite."

"She's mine, Oroses. Mine. Whatever you're getting at, don't."

"Yours?" Oroses cocked her head. "That's not fair - not to you, not to her. She doesn't belong here."

"No more-"

"Not that. We are hunted. We're being pressed for every scrap of land we can find. We are at war. The Drezhari are but the beginning; the Foe will inevitably follow us across the Divide. Do you think it proper to bring her into this universe only to die on the Arch-Fiend's blade - or worse yet, fall to His will?"

"What the fuck else am I supposed to do?!" Hawkmoon knew she was shouting but couldn't help it. There was no more bottling things up; she had to let it out. Her spark couldn't take it anymore. "Kill her?! Leave her?! She's ME! I can't let them have her, can't let them ruin her. The Vex..." She offlined her optics. "I don't know what the fuck to do. I keep thinking I hit rock bottom but the ground keeps giving way. She's the woman I'm supposed to be. I'm not going to get a happy ending, but if she can... then that means, in theory, I could've had the same thing. Even knowing it's possible will feel like a victory."

"You'll risk her sanity for your own peace of mind?"

Hawkmoon bristled. "Nothing I can do about that! The Vex ran their sim so now she's here. Adria's not a fucking computer programme. We can't just delete her. She's a person - a living, breathing person. I'm not killing her. I'm not killing anyone. Not when they don't deserve it. Look, I've already told her enough. She knows the stakes. She made the choice to fly out with me."

"You could be leaving her alive just to suffer."

"That's a Hive excuse."

Oroses shivered. Her quills stood on end. "I don't appreciate the comparison, Hawkmoon."

"Too fucking bad. I'm not one of your soldiers, Oroses; I'm a fucking Guardian. I'll never stop being one. That means putting decency first. Look, she's not Vex - and I don't care what you say, whatever happens next the choice should be hers."

"Choice led the First Foe to the Deep," Augur murmured. "It led the Sisters-"

"Will you shut up!" Hawkmoon whirled on him, incandescent with rage. "Stop talking you conniving little rat!"

Augur froze. "Hawkmoon-"

"No! You don't get to say a fucking thing! Not after the shit you pulled."

"I did what I had to."

"You lied to me. You've lied since the very beginning. You don't get to tell me what to do. Not anymore." She would have continued but Oroses' talons brushed over her arm.

"Easy, soldier," Oroses chided. "Is it the Augur?"

Hawkmoon resisted the urge to shrug her off. "Who else?"

"Don't blame him for Úthaessel's plan."

"She's dead, Oroses. Dead. I can't exactly take it up with her, can I?" Her armour flared. "But he's as responsible as she is."

Oroses trilled softly. She looked at her with sudden intensity. "Do you regret it?"

"Do I... no. No, I just... hate being left in the dark. You did that to me. If I'd known I'd have been more careful." She hesitated. "I almost died. There were... there were moments I wanted to. If any of you had told me-"

"Then the enemy would've known as well. They have ears everywhere."

"But he could have told me." Hawkmoon spared Augur one last bitter look. "I was drowning but he. Said. Nothing."

"We had to be sure," Augur hissed.

"Go fuck yourself. And you," Hawkmoon turned to Oroses. "I'm not yours. I'm not anyone's. The humans are under my protection. Mine. You're not my enemy and I don't want you to be."

Oroses stiffly stepped away. "I am Arch-Admiral-"

"And I saved your Emperor's bloodline. I did that." She vented hard. "Look, I can't look after them but if I have to I'll bring them all the way to the Stratocracy to ensure someone else can. I'd prefer if you and yours could do that for me. All I'm asking for is leeway. They're not dangerous, they won't take up much room or resources, and, hell, Praedyth's a damn Warlock. Get him speaking and you'll never want for a Verunlix again!"

Oroses looked past her. "I asked Cirino to investigate. She wanted to exterminate them the instant we discovered the human's nature."

"Don't-"

"I denied her. This may be her battleplate but the fleet is mine. I wanted to know why." She glanced at Adria and Praedyth. "You've explained yourself well enough, but I don't agree."

"Oroses-"

"I'll not have them killed. Not because I am merciful but because we owe you. Nothing more. The trouble she'll make with this..." Oroses snapped her beak loudly - an expression of frustration.

Hawkmoon sagged, bracing against the holodeck. She hated how weak the relief made her. "Thank you."

"I hope you realize she'll use this against you as well."

"What's her problem? I thought she was yours?"

"Mine? My daughter?" Oroses barked a hollow laugh. She all but collapsed into an elaborate chair. "Of my flock but not my brood."

Flock. A Taishibethi grouping of mates. Hawkmoon knew they traditionally practised polygamy but not the finer details therein. "So..."

"It's no concern of yours." Oroses sighed. "I'll fend her off, but I can't promise the fleet will care for extra mouths to feed. You'll have to show yourself as being useful. That way you can buy off the naysayers before I'm forced to choose a side."

"So nothing I'm not already doing?"

Oroses gave her a crooked look. "Mostly."

"Right, right, whatever's necessary." Hawkmoon looked down at Adria and switched to Kurmanji-English. "Hey. You guys doing alright?"

Adria stood rigidly with her arms crossed. "What was that?"

"Just... clearing things up."

"Bullshit." She jutted her chin towards Oroses. "She has a problem with us?"

"I've told her who you are."

"And what I am?"

"Already knew that."

Adria froze. "And?"

"Oroses has agreed to play nice," Hawkmoon explained, "for my sake. But you have to be careful."

"We're in an alien spaceship."

"I know."

"Surrounded by aliens."

"Yes, Adria, I know-"

"And you're all ten times our size at least."

"She sounds distressed," Oroses remarked.

Hawkmoon ignored her. "I'm trying my best here. I'll see to it that you two receive more permanent lodgings here, depending on the Tai's mood."

"Here?" Praedyth stepped closer. "We should be convening with the Ishtar teams."

"I have to get back to Cybertron, gotta warn them about the Drezhari. If Greshar's bold enough to attack Caminus then what's to say the homeworld's any safer?"

"This wasn't what we agreed upon."

"We'll find them, we will. I just... I have to do this." Hawkmoon straightened and switched back to Taishibethi. "We should talk shop."

Oroses nodded tiredly. "Very well. What do you intend to do next?"

"The Drezhari orchestrated the Prime's death. We need to defend ourselves."

"I heard. These companions of yours...?"

"The Camien Parliament saw fit to sendt a witness to give testimony before Iacon." Hawkmoon smiled grimly. "I've enough evidence to damn the Drezhari several times over. The Council won't be able to deny their involvement."

"And then what?"

"I..." Hawkmoon's expression fell. "War I suppose."

Oroses nodded slowly. "We'd welcome the help."

"That's if I can make the Council behave. I don't know if their reaction will be any better than Caminus'. These aren't beastformers; they aren't fond of organics."

"I'm not asking to be their friend. So long as our peoples can coordinate against the Drezhari, we should be able to press the advantage."

"Send messengers to the Stratocracy of the Eimin-Tin if you can. They're at war with Acquiestical as well. Prideful bunch but they're not xenophobic." Hawkmoon looked to the door. "I shouldn't keep them waiting."

"No." Oroses clicked her claws. The door opened and Cirino stepped in, followed by the Camiens and pair of Myods. "But there's no reason to leave so soon."

"Oroses..."

"The rest of the Remnant is stationed over Deliverance," Oroses said. "It's a lifeless glacial world but it suits our purposes. It's closer to Cybertron than Caminus. We can ensure the Drezhari don't follow you out of the system."

"Alright, yeah. We can work with that."

"My guards will show you to your new quarters. Take the humans with you. We'll speak again later."

"Later then." Hawkmoon offered her servos and gently took up Praedyth and Adria, the latter of which was none too pleased to be handled at all. She looked to Windblade and Chromia and indicated to follow.

AN: Big thanks to Nomad Blue for editing!

This one's been a while, writer's block hit hard. I originally planned to pan out more of Caminus but it didn't match the urgent pace at this point in the story. Windblade and Chromia will have to suffice in that regard. The next chapter will probably move even faster, though it'll be a chunker for sure. I can't imagine it'll take anywhere near as long to write either. I've got a different fic on my brain but I'm getting into a mood for transformers so yeah.

In the interest of transparency for those inclined, we are very close to the stage where the Cybertronian Civil War begins. While this fic is supposed to take place in a Transformers Prime-timeline, it draws inspiration from an abundance of sources and my own whims, so there will be noticeable differences that I won't get into yet. Hawkmoon's existence and dabbling will have some serious effects, especially in the next two/three chapters.

Anyways, toodles.